The Eyes Behind the Shades (Re-write)
by Josiefeathergirl
Summary: You, Jade Harley, love Dave Strider, but he's not the same any more. It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? If only you knew.


He pulls your body closer to his and you cave letting his tongue slip between your lips. You've never been kissed like this. Or held like this. Dave keeps you so close, so gently, and makes you melt in to him under his touch. You never want it to end. You want to stay in his arms forever; you want to know just how much he loves you. This is all so new to you. Dave is new to you. How did this even start? What were you doing before this? You don't remember, but you don't want it to end.

Going light headed form lack of air; you pull away from his lips panting. You untangle your hands from his hair and move them to cup his face. His breathing has quickened, but he still wears his shades and poker face. You would expect nothing less from a Strider.

Slowly you move your hands up his face and grip his shades. He makes no move to stop you; his hands still grip your waist. You smile at the lovely color of his eyes as you slide them off his face and discard them to the side. Even with his shades gone his face still seems so expressionless. It's slightly unnerving how his eyes seem to see right through you instead of focusing on something. Are they always like that?

"Now do that again without your shades, cool kid."

Your voice sounded much more confident in your head, but when the words came out of your mouth they were soft and shaky. You're waiting for him to make some since comment or joke, any thing Dave like, but instead he smirks and leans into kiss you again.

You let yourself get lost in the kiss. The way his tongue explores your mouth, his hands grip at your back, and his body so tightly pressed against yours. The most beautiful feeling in the world! Your arms wrapped around his neck tighten to expel of any unwanted distance and your legs go from straddling him to wrapping around his waist.

His scent fills your nose and his taste invades your mouth even when he pulls away to nip at your neck. Are you breathing? You're forgetting to think. You're completely over whelmed by him. It almost too much and it quickly becomes too much when your dulled senses tell you you're laying on the bed with Dave's hands sneaking up your shirt.

At first you let's your nerves jump at the feeling of his warm hands touching your sensitive skin, but once his hands go up a bit further, you get a little uncomfortable. You pull your head back to break your current kiss, but his lips are back on yours before you can speak.

Your green eyes pop open and search for his red ones, but they're closed. In your second attempt you unwrap your arms from his neck and push at his shoulders lightly. He does nothing, as if he didn't even feel it. You push a bit harder with the same response. Your heart is beating faster than it should and you need to breathe. His hands are groping around and trying to figure out how to unhook your bra. You are seriously not okay with this situation. A few minutes ago you didn't even know he felt this way about you. Of course you've known him most your life, but a formal date maybe? You are getting more and more uncomfortable by the second. You cup his face and push against him, this time successfully breaking his lock on your lips.

He opens his eyes and watches you take deep breaths. After a moment his hands leave your shirt and move up to gently rest on your hands. He removes your hands, brings them together and kisses them. This gives you enough courage to speak.

"Dave could we, umm, slow down, a little," You pant still trying to curb your heart beat.

He tilts his head slightly and questions you with his eyes. Staring into his eyes you expect to find hurt or misunderstanding, but again, you find nothing.

"I love you."

There is no emotion in that statement. He didn't even say your name. Dave Strider is a try hard cool kid, not an emotionless dick. This you are sure of and the guy sitting on top of you is without a doubt, an emotionless dick.

"Dave-"

"Harley."

You stop at the sound of your name. What were you going to say again? A sudden migraine makes you clamp your eyes closed. It takes all you're focus to listen to him, but he never continues on. Your head is hurting more, so you try to pull your hands away to comfort your head, but he won't let go. Your arms have gone weak, leaving you without the strength to free yourself.

"Stop," your heart is beating on your ears and you can't even focus on your own words. "My head hurts."

He doesn't respond. God damnit Dave, just respond. He doesn't move, he doesn't get off you, he doesn't do anything. Despite the pounding in your head, you wrench your eyes open to see him. He's staring down at you with no hints of his next move displayed. Another jumbled plea comes from your mouth and he finally moves.

He kisses your hands once again, then switches his grip to your wrists and puts them down behind your head. This movement confuses you and it's not until he has one hand griped on your wrists and the other taking his shirt off, does it click. More jumbled protests come out of your mouth and your body thrashes underneath him. You should be able to fight back, you can fight back, living on an island your whole life keeps your mussels well used, but you feel so weak.

Taking his shirt off, he uses it to bind your wrists together. Your head is pounding and you body feels limp, but you're pretty sure you could untie your hands. As if he is reading your mind, he finds a blanket to tie to not only your hands, but the post of the bed as well. If only you could think straight.

Clamping your eyes shut yet again, you focus on your breathing. You can't focus on the fact that your bra and shirt have now been slid over your head and unwanted pair of hands are now traveling down in to your skirt.

The air has suddenly gone cold, but his breath burns your skin. You're completely exposed. Nothing protects you from him. Kicking is useless and so is trying to squirm away. You're screaming with no one to hear you. The tears come when you feel his bare skin against yours.

Choking on your tears you scream for your Dave to save you. He's gone. There's no one to save you. Pain shoots through you as his lips leave kisses on your stomach. They burn your skin and you want to wipe the acid away, but you're defenseless against him.

You try to squirm away and yank your hands free, but it doesn't take much for him to hold you down. After a while you stop trying, you just cry, and hope. He tries to kiss you again, but still have the freedom to turn your head away, even if the motion sends landmines exploding in your head. After being denied your will, he decides to take what he wants.

Screaming and trashing doesn't seem to faze him as he enters you. All it does it knock off your glasses, blurring your vision, and send a pillow falling to the floor. The pillow lands with a shattering crack. In that moment you would rather give mental tribute to the glass that once sat on your night stand than acknowledge what is happening in this moment.

Trying to forget the present you think about anything but the pain. Your loved ones, your friends, the god damn game. Anything is better remembered. A particular hard thrust sends your back arching and your voice Horace. Please. Stop. Please. Dave.

His fingers dig bruises into your hips and his teeth mark your neck. The pain doesn't even register any more. You're dead. You want to be dead. You have lost your friend, your very best friend, whom you may have even loved. He's gone, now so are you.

His teeth bite down hard enough to seemingly break your wind pipe, eliciting a deafening scream that's pain will always haunt your ears, as his mussels tense and he comes. He lies on top of you tracing the outline for your curves silently. The only sound disturbing the silence is your sobs.

Eventually those sobs turn into mummers and those into words. Those words don't make sense to you. Your head ache hasn't given way and you forget what words symbolize. Can they express the reason why the tears won't stop flowing? Or do they have to have a willing ear to mean anything?

His lips start moving again. Placing kisses along your collarbone and hands moving to claim our body as his. Your throat burns, you've been defeated, but somehow you will your words to become stronger. They leave your throat as Horace cries.

Opening your eyes, you're practically blind. Shapes are even a struggle to make out, but some how his demonic eyes are as clear as they ever will be. He's looking up at you and moving his face directly above yours. Your words stop as you stare into those lifeless eyes. What happened to him?

"Stop." Your voice comes steadier than you dare to believe. "Please. I love you, Dave."

"Do you still?" His breath is burning to your lips, but his words freeze your blood.

Apparently you take too long to answer, because the next thing you register is his lips against yours.

No matter how deep and passionate the kiss was, the only thing you can mutter when he pulls away is, "You're not Dave."

For too many breaths silence is his only response. Then, cackling laughter. A laughter that makes you cower. Not Dave's laughter.

"Jade Harley," He spits. "You dare to question the one and only _living, _Dave Strider?"

"Yes?" You squeak.

"And why would a smart girl like you do that? Are you in any position to question me?"

A new round of tears flow down your cheeks and his hand draws slow swirls with them.

"You're not my Dave."

"Every Dave is your Dave. We all love you Jade."

The tears come faster and each breath becomes more strained. "Please," you beg, "just give me my Dave, my knight, my friend back."

"I am yours!" He screams and his hands grip the side of your face much too hard. "I was your knight," he whispers, "your friend," his breath hitches and you feel a drop that's not your own tear hit your face. "Dave."

His hands loosen their grip and travel into your hair. His eyes are now blurred much like everything else. "Don't you see Jade? We never won. We can never win." He chokes back a sob. "Nobody can win, it's impossible. I've seen it. We all lose no matter what. We all die. You die."

"But we did win-"

"No!" More of his tears fall on to your face as he leans his forehead against yours. "Ad we never will. Don't you get that? We're stuck like this, at home, but so far away from reality... So far away from sanity. Jade, this isn't how the world is supposed to be. We shouldn't remember. I shouldn't be able to feel... death."

You want you badly to comfort him. He's lost. You've seen it happen once before. He forgot you won. He was convinced you both were dead. He claimed to have seen you die right in front of him. He later admitted it's been happening more and more frequently since the game ended. His dead selves never died. They live inside him. They haunt him.

"Dave-"

"Die with me." You stare into his emotionless eyes. He's serious. Dave's gone. "It's the only way."

"I don't want to die." Your voice comes out nothing but a whisper.

"I stole your purity. Come to hell with me."

"Don't," you cry, "Dave, it's going to be okay. Please untie me, I can help you."

"No, you can't. I'm gone Harley! You know it too," his hand swipes stray pieces of hair from your face and caresses you cheek. "Please, come with me."

"Dave, no-"

"Just stop!"

He kisses you once again. This time you kiss back. You can save him if you could just convince him...

He pulls away. Its too late. Your red and green eyes meet one last time as he whispers, "I love you."

Your eyes roll back into the darkness as the sharp pain spreads throughout your chest. You're gone. Maybe as much as he was. You must have been insane to think this journey could die a happy ending.


End file.
